resurrection
by no cure for crazy
Summary: "You'll never catch me." / It's sinister and haunting and something she never thought she'd see again. "He's back," she finds herself saying.
1. Chapter 1

AN: So I've been working on this little thing here for months now and i'm finally getting around to uploading it because I might as well, right? So anyway, we'll see just how well this goes.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own these characters.

* * *

She gets the call at four am and stifles a groan into her pillow. She blindly reaches her arm out to the bedside table feeling for her phone. She slides her thumb across the screen, answering the call and brings the device to her ear.

"Blake," she says, groggily – her voice still thick with sleep. She rubs her eyes with her other hand as she listens to the voice on the other end. "Yeah….just text me the address and I'll be right there."

"Whatisit?" she hears her boyfriend mumble from beside her as she hangs up her phone.

"Just a body drop," she says, reaching over and kissing his cheek. "Go back to sleep."

Lincoln mumbles something else before rolling over and she smiles before rolling her eyes. She yawns and stretches her arms – her fingertips brushing against the headboard.

She pulls herself out of bed and forces herself to walk towards the adjoining bathroom, opting for a quick shower to get her blood flowing and to wake her up.

Once dried, she brushes her hair back into a ponytail, decides on some slacks and a sweater and shoves her feet in her nicer boots. She stops at the coat closet by the door to grab her badge and holstered gun and clips them to her belt and grabs her jacket before stepping out into the hallway.

* * *

"Here you go."

She smiles at her partner as she takes the to-go coffee cup from his outstretched hand. "You are my life savior, Miller."

"Don't need you biting my head off because you haven't had your caffeine fix yet," he retorts, playfully.

Octavia slaps his arm with her free hand before taking a sip of the warm liquid, savoring the taste as it slides down her throat. "Just lead the way to the body."

"It's in the alley," Miller begins as he turns and heads in that direction. "But according to Monroe – it's brutal."

"I'm sure it's not the worse I've—"Octavia starts but stops short when the victim comes into her vision.

She swallows thickly against the bile rising in her throat. The corpses' hands are bound and her legs were bent at odd angles, she was beaten and bruised with the initials _MM_ carved into her cheek – the signature left on every victim.

"Jenna Lancaster," she hears Detective Miller say as he comes to a stop besides her.

She nods but silently curses herself. She thought that this time would be different – that they would find the girl before it was too late. She made a promise to a crying mother and a distraught father that she would do everything in her power to find their daughter.

But she was too late.

Two days ago, they got a call about a teenage disappearance. The police couldn't explain why or how the girl had disappeared. It was almost as if she'd just vanished into thin air. Much like a string of disappearances and murders from years ago.

Though she was just a rookie back then, she could still remember the cases; the disappearances, the disembodied bodies, the sickening feeling in the pit of the stomach when she and her old beat partner found the first body – she could still remember puking, let's just say she'll never live that down - and the solemn mood that washed over D.C.

"Detectives you might want to see this," Jackson, their medical examiner says pulling the young detective from her thoughts.

She forces herself back into the present and follows her partner's gaze. She stops in her tracks when her eyes fall on the message written in blood on the alley wall.

 _You'll never catch me_

It's sinister and haunting and something she never thought she'd see again.

"He's back," she finds herself saying.

* * *

She's walking past her desk, holding a back full of old case files and sits it on the table they've moved to the middle of the squad room with a small thud. The table is filled with envelopes of old cases and the murder board standing a few feet away is already filled with the evidence of their newly found crime scene.

"Well this is everything we have on the mountain man," Octavia says with a sigh.

"And we're positive it's him? And not a copycat?" Monroe questions.

"All the evidence fits," Miller states. "The unexplainable disappearance, the ally body dump, the messages, the markings on the body – it's his M.O. We never released any of the finer details to the press."

"Just when I thought we'd seen the last of him," Monroe mutters.

The sound of footsteps causes the three detectives to move their attention to their captain coming towards them. His face is unreadable and Octavia isn't sure what to expect when he opens his mouth but whatever it is, it can't be good.

"Well it looks like the FBI has gotten wind of this," Captain Kane tells the three of them. "They've already sent agents over to consult with on this case."

"But," Miller starts but Kane raises his hand.

"I don't like this anymore than you," he responds. "But my hands and Chief Jaha's hands are tied. There's nothing I can do. We're just going to have to deal with whatever agents they send."

Octavia sighs. If there's one thing she hates more than anything it's working with the FBI on her cases. Every agent they've ever sent over has been nothing but full of shit and cocky as hell and she can't stand them. But of course she has no choice but to put up with them.

"When are they getting here?" Monroe asks the question they all want to know the answer to. So they'll know how much breathing room they'll have before they're bombarded with arrogance.

Octavia's head snaps up as the ding of the elevator fills the squad room and her gaze falls on the director of the FBI. Her breath hitches in her throat when she sees one of the two FBI agents who flank him on either side.

She stifles a groan.

Why, of all the agents the FBI have to have at their disposal – did _he_ have to be one of the two that they send over?

She sighs – already knowing that this is going to be a long case. That solving this case is going to be that much more difficult and he's going to try to tell her want she can and can't do.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Yeah maybe I'm throwing in a little bit of the FBI/police tension that _every_ crime show seems to have, because why not?

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the 100, but I wished I did so I could give these poor characters a break.

* * *

She scoffs. As much as she knows her brother means well – it's annoying how much he tries to baby her. It only got worse after their mother passed away when she was young. After that, he started acting less like a brother and more like a father.

"Are you sure this is a case you should be a part of?" her brother's familiar voice asks, pulling her from her thoughts.

Octavia glares at him. "I am a trained officer of the law, I know what I'm doing. And I can take care of myself."

"I just want to make sure you're safe," he responds.

She pokes a finger in his chest. "You don't get to come into my precinct like a high and mighty FBI agent and start telling me what to do – that's my captain's job and the last time I checked, you weren't him. And you're also not the Chief of Police. I don't need your protection, big brother."

She turns on her heel and walks over to her partner's desk.

Miller looks up from his computer screen upon her arrival. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Octavia tells him. "As if working with the FBI was going to be bad enough, one of them had to be my brother who doesn't understand that I'm more than capable of fending for myself."

The sound of four sets of footsteps interrupt the detective's conversation and Octavia glances around to see her captain, her brother and two other men standing to the side.

"This is FBI Director Sinclair and two of his best agents; Sterling and Blake," Captain Kane says, pointing to each man in turn. "They're going to be assisting us in this investigation."

Octavia knew this was just a formality that her captain was putting on just to be polite for the director but she couldn't care less. She would much rather just get straight into the case and finally be able to bring this bastard to justice – but she'll play along, for now.

"And this is Detectives Monroe, Miller and Blake," Kane continues. "And I'm sure they'll be more than happy to get you two up to speed." He adds, throwing a specific look at Octavia.

"Of course," Octavia easily responds, fighting against an eye roll and forcing a small smile on her face.

The Agent known as Sterling holds out his hand and she gives him a firm shake. "Pleasure meeting you."

"Well there's no time to waste," Octavia tells them as her Captain walks off, deep in conversation with the Director. "Clocks ticking."

"What do you have?" Sterling asks, glancing around at the case files spread out on the table.

"We have these old cases," Monroe starts, in the middle of separating their murder board into five sections; three on the top, two on the bottom.

"Jenna Lancaster went missing two nights ago," Octavia rattles off the important case details. "Jenna's roommate, Allison called us when she didn't come back to their dorm room. And we found her body this morning, laid out in the same way as these four previous victims, with a similar message to that-" she points to the photo of the 'you'll never catch me' message on the murder board-"written on the alley way wall in what looks like the victim's blood."

"Sofia Abrahams, Grace McKinnon, Natalia Faulkner and Katherine Kramer also went missing without a trace and were found dead in allies two days later," Octavia continues, glancing between her brother and his partner. "Each one with the same bruises, scars and initials carved into their cheeks – just like Jenna."

"Because of the unexplained strange disappearances, the brutal murders and the initials, the media has taken to calling him the 'Mountain Man,'" Miller adds in. "It is pretty clever but it's a stupid move on their part to give the son of a bitch a name."

"It's adds to his ego," Bellamy assists.

"We've tried cross referencing known serial killers with this M.O.," Monroe calls over her shoulder as she hunches over to write the rest of the names of the victims under their photos. "But we've come up short – so he knows how to cover his tracks."

Octavia runs a hand through her hair. "We're not dealing with an amateur, that's for sure."

"Maybe we should try seeing if these woman would have crossed paths with the same person, or went to the same place or _something_ that connects them," her brother says.

"We could, but with the older cases, that may be harder than we think," Octavia counters. She purses her and brings her hand up to her chin. "But I guess it wouldn't hurt to check out."

* * *

Octavia hangs up her phone. "Well there is a coffee house near Georgetown College where Jenna spent most of her time."

"Is that where Jenna was last seen before disappearing?" Sterling asks.

"No one knows where any of the victims went missing – just where they ended up," Octavia replies, glancing over at the agent. "Your guess is as good as mine."

There's a rustle of papers and Octavia looks over to Miller who's searching through the files on the table. "Ahh," he says, picking up a particular case file. He glances over at his partner and begins to explain himself. "I thought maybe it sounded familiar and turns out – The McKinnon's and the Abrahams' live in the Georgetown area."

"There's still two other victims to be accounted for – but it's a start," Octavia says, leaning back in her chair.

"Seems like shady police work," she hears brother mutter.

Octavia spins around on him. "As if the FBI has done a better job of catching this son of a bitch. Sometimes tiny details get over looked in serial killer cases – it sucks, but it happens. The only thing we need to worry about right now is finding this asshole – not worrying about who should have done what however many years ago."

A moment of awkward silence washes over the squad room as the two siblings stare at one another. Octavia trying to refrain from slapping or strangling her brother.

"We're going to be working on this case together," Bellamy tells her as if she doesn't already know that. "We're both going to have to get used to that."

"Well when you stop stepping on my feet and stop with your dislike or distrust or whatever it is for the police department then maybe we can actually work in peace," Octavia retorts, before turning and stalking off.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Well I'm going to try to see if I can get this story finished before the show comes back but I guess we'll see what happens between now and then.

* * *

"You know, you didn't have to follow me downstairs," Octavia tells him during the elevator ride. "I'm pretty sure the mountain man isn't going to strike here."

"I'm just here for anything pertaining to the case," he replies easily as the doors slide open.

"Sure," Octavia mumbles, quickly stepping out of the small space.

Bellamy grabs her arm before she can stalk off and she has no choice but to face him. "What's the problem here?"

Octavia yanks her arm out of his grip. " _You_ ," she says, poking his chest. "You're the problem - coming in here like any other snobby FBI agent. And for what? Because there's a serial killer on the loose and apparently that's my squad's fault?"

She scoffs. "As if we're all not trying to do our best here. And now you're acting like there's nothing wrong…as if you're not this overprotective, FBI jackass that thinks I can't handle myself. That thinks I needed a father figure after mom died when all I needed _was my brother."_

She turns on her heels and heads towards the lab, forcing away the tears welling in her eyes. Work is not the place to cry.

She takes a breath to steady herself before pushing through the lab door. The last thing she needs is a ton of questions from Clarke wondering what's up with her – or any from Raven.

"Please tell me there's good news?" she calls out. Clarke looks up from her workstation but her eyes fall on the person behind Octavia. "That's just one of the FBI agents working this case with us – just ignore him."

Clarke gives her a pointed look and Octavia knows that the conversation isn't over, but Clarke gives the findings. "Well I can tell you that all the blood found at the crime scene was deliberate and that the message on the brick isn't the victim's blood."

Octavia raises an eyebrow. "Then who's is it?"

"It's not human," Clarke explains. "It's animal and from what I can tell, it's from a wild animal."

"Animal blood?" Octavia repeats, raising an eyebrow. "Strange."

"Well the mountain man is strange himself," Raven says from the other side of the lab. "I can also tell you that the initials in the vic's cheek were carved with a knife that had a serrated edge while the other markings were done with a straight edge."

"There's also rope burns on the vic's wrists and ankles – as if she was bound to something," Jackson informs them, walking in from the double doors that lead to the autopsy room. "And there's also evidence of her mouth being gagged with some type of cloth."

"The same as every other victim," Octavia states, mentally going back over the other case files in her head.

"How about cause of death?" she hears her brother ask.

"Strangulation," Raven says as she glances at Bellamy for a second before her gaze lands on Octavia. "But what's weird is the partial print we found on the victim's neck."

"Ran it through the database and it matches to one Hank LoveJoy," Clarke continues.

Octavia sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "Alright, but this just seems way too easy."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been so great at covering his tracks. No D.N.A, no prints, nothing was found at previous crime scenes," Octavia explains, crossing her arms. "This just seems sloppy on his part – doesn't seem like it's in character."

"Do you think it's deliberate?" Bellamy questions.

Octavia shrugs. "I guess the only way to find out is to find and question Hank Lovejoy."

A raised eyebrow glare from Clarke stops Octavia in her tracks as they head towards the door. She tells her brother to head back upstairs to relay this new information to the rest of the squad and that she'll be along in a minute.

She takes a breath before turning around and facing whatever it is that Clarke is going to throw at her.

"Okay what the hell was that about?" Clarke asks as Octavia in is the middle of her turnabout.

Octavia runs a hand through her hair. "You remember me telling you I had a brother?"

"And you said that he worked for the –"She trails off as it dawns on her. " _That_ was your brother?"

Octavia nods. "And I'm stuck working with him on this case. And he's most likely going to be a pain in my ass with his overprotective act."

Clarke pulls her into her workstation and sets aside a place for Octavia to set on the edge of the table, while Clarke sits in her chair. "And that's it?"

"It's just – we used to be so close," Octavia tells her, a sad smile forming on her lips as she remembers all the memories of her brother reading her bedtime stories and all the piggy back rides. She stills herself and pushes the thoughts away. "And then our mom died and neither of our fathers were in the picture…our relationship has been strained as best since then."

"You may not like the idea but you could try talking to him," Clarke suggests.

"We had a – or well, I sort of yelled at him in the hallway before walking in here," Octavia admits. "But I highly doubt we'll be talking without butting heads for quite a while – if ever."

"I don't think that's going to help the case," Clarke tells her. "With this tension between the two of you, how can you expect to work together?"

Octavia sighs, she knows Clarke's right. If she couldn't work with her brother, how could she expect the team to work together? Hell, how could she expect them to catch the mountain man?

Octavia softly slaps Clarke's shoulder. "Why are you always right?"

Clarke shrugs. "I just am…Does this mean that you're actually going to talk to him?"

"We can probably head over to that diner for lunch," Octavia responds, glancing at the watch on her left hand.

"Seems like a good idea," Clarke agrees. "Especially since it's public and you two can't yell at each other for fear of causing a scene."

"I probably still could – you know me," Octavia says, sliding off the table. "Though thanks for talking some sense into me."

Clarke gives Octavia's shoulder a squeeze. "That's what I'm here for."

"Even if you never let me return the favor with your love life," Octavia counters, sending her a pointed look.

Clarke sighs. "Yes because going to you or Raven for advice on my love life is what I want to do."

"Lincoln and I have been together for four years, almost five," Octavia says, simply with a slight shrug. "I think I'm doing pretty well in that aspect…we haven't killed each other yet. Though I'm surprised you didn't kill your ex."

"Raven and I both agree that he wasn't worth it," Clarke responds. "We decided to be the bigger people."

"And bonded over being 'the other woman'," Octavia comments, with a quick glance over her shoulder where Raven looked to be looking at other pieces of forensic evidence on the other side of the lab. "I mean you two probably could have killed him without leaving any trace."

"Perhaps, but like I said, he's not worth it," Clarke tells her. She tilts her head towards the lab doors. "Now don't you have a case to go solve?"

"This conversation still isn't over, Clarke."

"It never is with you," Clarke calls after her

She pulls out her phone as she steps into the hallway, only to find the person she was going to call leaning against the wall.

"I thought you were supposed to relay crime information?" she says, slipping her phone back into her pocket and crossing her arms.

"Miller and Monroe are heading over to Lovejoy's house to talk to him. I did my part and then I came back down here because I needed to talk to you," Bellamy explains. "I kept thinking about what happened earlier…you were right."

"Bet it took you a while to admit to that," Octavia retorts in a teasing tone, she can't help herself. "I was actually just going to call you – see if you wanted to get some lunch…and talk."

Bellamy glances up. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

They fall into a silence as they head towards the elevator – their relationship isn't going to be fixed overnight – maybe not even by the end of the case. But maybe they'll find a way to make working together easier.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are we airing out all our dirty laundry?" Bellamy asks as they settle into a booth towards the back of the diner.

Octavia glances across the table. "You know, I don't even know where we should start."

Their waitress comes out and deposits menus in front of them and takes their drink orders. She returns a few minutes later with their drinks and the two rattle off their orders – Octavia prompting for something on the light side and ordering a BLT.

"So I do kind of understand where you were coming from and you were only trying your best to keep a roof over our heads," Octavia starts off after their waitress leaves. "But at the same time I was a stubborn little teenager – okay I still am, stubborn that is, but still."

"Maybe I did sort of switch gears from brother to strict father after mom died," Bellamy admits.

"You could have been sort of a drill sergeant at times," Octavia tells him, taking a sip of her water.

Bellamy raises his eyebrow.

"Just a tad bit," Octavia adds as their waitress returns with their foods and wishes them an enjoyable meal before disappearing again.

"I am sorry, O," Bellamy responds. "Truthfully."

"Alright so maybe it was fine at times," Octavia says, picking up a few fries. "It's just sometimes I just needed my big brother – not a father figure."

"I guess there could have been a bit more of a balance."

"You tried your best, Bell. I realize that now," Octavia states, popping the fries in her mouth. "And like I said, I was just a stubborn girl and a pretty rebellious teenager who apparently just wasn't having it….and maybe all of that came back when I saw you again."

"All we can do is go forward from here, I guess."

"Yeah," Octavia agrees, but she's confident that they can work through their strained relationship and work things out. She's probably not going to ever admit it to him, but she's glad that her brother is back in her life – despite the reasoning has to why is he.

Besides, even she doesn't think she can run from this forever.

* * *

"Blake," she answers once she brings her phone to her ear. She closes her eyes for a moment and lets out a breath. "We'll be right there…..damn it," she mutters after she hangs up.

Bellamy's halfway through the door of the diner when he stops and glances over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"That was Miller. Looks like our mountain man has struck again," Octavia responds, relaying the message. "We got another body not too far from here."

"Hey," Bellamy says, placing a hand on her shoulder as she passes him. "We're going to catch this guy."

"Yeah I hope," Octavia mumbles as she turns and starts walking towards her squad car. With each new body she becomes more and more determined to finally catch this bastard. Despite the nagging voice in the back of her hand that won't stop telling her that they never will.

She pushes the thoughts away as she and Bellamy slip into her squad car. She doesn't need these distractions – she just needs to focus on the case, on the evidence and bring this guy to justice.

* * *

"What do we have here?" Octavia asks, walking up to the crime scene. She stops when her gaze falls on the bloody writing on the brick wall behind the body.

 _You really thought it'd be that easy?_

Her gaze then goes to Jackson, their M.E., who stands next to the hanging body and then to the body itself which hangs from the fire escape, a rope around his neck and his head titled to the side.

 _Shit._

Hank Lovejoy. The owner of the partial print they'd found on Jenna Lancaster's neck is now dead in an alleyway.

 _Looks like we found him…_

Just when she thought they were getting somewhere, they get stumped once again.

The double m initials carved into his cheek taunt her.

"Monroe and I were on our way to the Lovejoy residence when we got the call," Miller explains, stepping up to the siblings. "And it looks like he's not our guy after all."

"He's messing with us, this is a fucking game to him," Octavia breathes, clenching and unclenching her hands, trying to stay calm and refrain from punching a brick wall. She's been there before and it didn't end well – it ended with some fractured knuckles and her hand wrapped for a week.

"Do you have a time of death?" Bellamy asks as the medical examiner's gaze falls on them.

"Based on rigor, I'd say that TOD was between ten and midnight," Jackson rattles off. "Of course, I'll know more once I get him back to the lab."

Octavia nods and glances towards Miller. "Have uniforms canvas the area – see if anyone might have seen or heard anything."

* * *

"So Hank Lovejoy went from being a suspect to being a victim in just a few hours," Miller says, perched on the edge of his desk and staring at the murder board.

"What do we know about him?" Octavia questions, sitting her coffee down on her desk.

"Thirty Seven – has a wife and son," Sterling rattles off, thumbing through his tablet. "He worked for Mount Weather Security which is owned by a Dante Wallace."

"Has anyone contacted the family?" Octavia asks. The one part about this job that she hates the most is breaking the news to a victim's family. No matter how many times she has to tell a family that a loved one is dead, it doesn't get easier and she knows it never will.

"I called them, they're on their way," Monroe states, filling in the murder board with the new information under Lovejoy's photo.

The ding of the elevator attracts her and she feels her mouth setting into a deep frown as a woman walks into the squad room with a little ten year old boy. She braces herself and steps forward.

"Mrs. Lovejoy?"

"Are you the detective I spoke with on the phone?" the woman asks as soon as her gaze settles on Octavia.

"That was one of my partners," Octavia informs the older woman. "Thank you for coming in."

Octavia leads her and her son into the interview room off to the side and allows them room to sit on the couch while she takes a seat on the chair. She holds her notepad and a pencil in her lap as she faces the family.

"We found your husband this morning," Octavia decides to bite the bullet by getting straight to the point.

The woman closes her eyes for a moment and reaches out for her son's hand. "Was his death somehow connected to these others?"

"From the looks of it, whoever is behind the murders was trying to fame your husband."

"Frame him? How?"

"We found a partial print on the neck of our last victim," Octavia explains, thumbing through her notepad. "The FBI was able to match it to your husband." Octavia takes a moment to allow the information to sink in before she continues. "I know this is going to be hard to ask, but has your husband ever been involved in any illegal activity?"

Mrs. Lovejoy glances up. "No…not that I know of." After a moment's pause. "Although he did admit to me once that he was arrested in college."

"Did he ever say what?"

"He said it was at a party," the woman responds. "And I just left it at that."

Octavia nods, jotting it down. "Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your husband?"

"Hank was a good man, he barely had any enemies – though he didn't always get along with one of his coworkers – Carl, something – but I don't think he would have killed him."

Octavia continues the normal line of questionings as she would with any other family member. It was a second nature by now; the questions, the 'I'm sorry for your loss,' and promising to find the killer as the interview comes to an end.

She watches as Monroe leads them into the elevator and doesn't tear her gaze away until the doors shut, closing the three of them inside.

Soft footsteps pull her attention towards her brother.

"We've got to find this son of a bitch," Octavia bites out, her hand lifting on its own to grip the ring she wears on a chain around her neck.

All the families of the victims need their closure – especially that little boy whose father was ripped away from him too soon.


	5. Chapter 5

"What do we know about Hank Lovejoy's past? The wife says he was arrested in college," Octavia says, walking back from the break room with a fresh cup of coffee.

"Well according to his file which I was able to pull up," Miller says, glancing at his computer screen. "Looks like he was arrested in October '99 when he was 21 for drunken disorderly conduct and assault on a Brian Taylor – though he never filed charges."

"That's weird," Miller adds.

"What?"

Miller glances away from his computer screen. "Brian Taylor and Hank Lovejoy both work for Mount Weather Security."

"I don't know," Octavia glances over at him. "If he never filed charges – do you really think he would kill the person who assaulted him sixteen years later?"

"I wasn't mentioning it because of that," Miller responds. "It's just weird that everything so far seems to be coming back to Mount Weather."

Octavia glances between her partner and her brother. "I guess we're making a trip down to Mount Weather Security."

* * *

"Right this way," the young woman leads Octavia and Bellamy through a long hallway. "It's terrible what happened to Hank."

"Was Hank well liked here?" Bellamy questions.

"Of course, there wasn't a soul who hated him – of course he did have a bit of disagreement with Carl Emerson, but it was nothing major."

"He hasn't had an altercation with any other employees? Past or present?" Octavia presses, as the woman knocks on the door they've come to a stop in front of.

A muffled come in prompts her to open the door and usher to two inside.

"Mr. Wallace," the woman says, all bright smiles and white teeth and Octavia can see that it's forced. "The detectives you spoke to on the phone."

"Of course," the older man says, standing up from his chair. He waves her away. "That will be all, thank you Maia."

Octavia shares a glance with the young woman named Maia and she swears there's something she's hiding. Octavia can see it in the girl's brown eyes; there's _something_ she's keeping but seems too afraid to admit.

Octavia shakes the thoughts away and turns to face the older man. "I'm Detective Octavia Blake and this is Agent Blake from the FBI…Thank you for meeting with us Mr. Wallace."

"It's the least I can do to help and please call me Dante," Dante Wallace faces the two. "Now how can I help?"

"Did Hank Lovejoy have a security job last night?" Octavia questions.

Dante Wallace leans over his computer and after a moment he responds. "He had a security gig at 11pm but apparently never showed….Didn't call in either, but now I know why."

"Did he have any problems with any other employees?"

"There was a shouting match between him and Carl Emerson a few weeks ago. I believe over scheduling," Dante informs them. "But they cleared that up and were fine a week later."

Bellamy asks the man more questions as Octavia's gaze become interested in a photograph on the desk, next to the name plate. It's a photograph of Dante with another man, a young version of himself; the younger man must be his son or another close related and can't be more than late thirties or early forties.

There's a small part of her that wonders if this mystery man could be their killer or could at least lead them to their man. He seems to fit the profile after all and seems almost charismatic enough to draw young woman in….

 _You're probably on a fishing expedition, Octavia._

 _Still, it can't hurt to look into._

"Is this another employee?" Octavia questions, gesturing those the photo.

"I beg your pardon?" Dante falters, tearing his gaze away from Bellamy and boring into her.

"The man with you in the photograph on your desk," Octavia explains, nonchalant. "Is that another employee? Or someone you know? A friend? Family member perhaps?"

Dante glances down at his watch. "Well I have an important conference call in twenty minutes so I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you two to leave."

"If you think of anything else, please give us a call," Bellamy says.

"It was nice meeting you Agent," Dante says, not acknowledging Bellamy's words. "Detective," he adds, glancing over at Octavia. "I'm sure you can find your way out."

Octavia turns around and heads for the door, Bellamy right behind her. She waits until the door is firmly shut and there's a safe distance between them and the head of Mount Weather Security before she speaks.

"Okay _something_ fishy is going on here," Octavia states as they round the corner. She stops and turns around to face him. "He is hiding something and I don't like it."

"There is something about that man in the photograph that he doesn't want us to know," Bellamy admits, running a hand through his hair. "And it's up to us to find out what it is."

Octavia shrugs. "Something about it doesn't rest well with me."

"You don't think his son could be our guy?" Bellamy asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know," Octavia admits. "But like Miller said, it's weird how all of this keeps coming back to Mount Weather…And did you see how quickly he asked us to leave when I brought it up."

"Let's just get out of here," Bellamy tells her, placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her back towards the way they came.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

* * *

"So who could this mystery man be?" Miller ponders, tossing a ball in the air and catching it, before lodging it at Monroe who catches it with ease.

"So where do we go from here?" Monroe asks from her perch on her desk, passing the ball along to Octavia.

"Have one of the analysts look into Dante Wallace's past," Octavia commands, giving the ball in her hand a squeeze. "I have a feeling not all is well with him."

"Right," Monroe says, sliding off her desk and walking in the opposite direction.

"Do you all do this often?" Bellamy asks, gesturing to the ball Octavia is tossing back at Miller.

"Only when we're bored and we're going over evidence again," Miller rambles off, catching the ball and sitting it down on his desk. "Helps brain activity flow when you're actually doing something."

Octavia scoffs. "Just ignore him…."

"It's true," Miller calls out, sitting up from his chair before walking towards the break room.

A small smile tugs on Octavia's lips. Her partner is a dork at times but she wouldn't trade him for anything. It's nice to have him there to tease her or make her smile when they're dealing with a tough case – especially once like this.

The sound of the elevator is pulling Octavia's gaze towards the door doors on the far end of the bullpen. She's shocked to say the least at who the doors slide to reveal.

"Well look who it is," Bellamy says.

"Maia Vie," Octavia responds, the girl who works for Dante Wallace.


	6. Chapter 6

"Can I help you Miss Vie?" Octavia asks as soon as the girl crosses the bullpen.

"It's about before," Maia rambles off.

Octavia glances between the girl and the conference room. "Would you like a cup of water or a seat?"

Maia shakes her head. "I'm running an errand for Mr. Wallace and I can't really stay long….but I needed to tell you something. The answer to your question about the other employees Hank had a problem with and that man in the photo."

"Who is?" Octavia prompts.

"Mr. Wallace has a son who used to work for Mount Weather," Maia explains, hurriedly. "He got into multiple altercations with Hank, Carl and many of the other employees as well….It turned ugly when Dante had to fire him and he didn't take it well. There's been multiple threats on the company since then."

"Does the son have a name?" Bellamy questions, coming up to stand next to the two.

"Cage," Maia says, quickly, slowly making her way back towards the elevator. "I'm really sorry but I have to go….I'm afraid that's all I can say."

Octavia stands there, confused as she watches the girl hurriedly walk back towards the elevator. She crosses her arms over her chest and turns back towards Bellamy.

"Well that was kind of weird," Bellamy says.

"A little more than kind of," Octavia responds, pursing her lips and trying to allow all the information to sink in.

"I would assume she's probably afraid of something," Miller states, walking back into the bullpen with a cup of coffee. "By how quickly she ran off like that."

"Not something, _someone,_ " Octavia replies. "And that person is most likely Cage Wallace."

"I can see if we can spare a few plain clothes officers to keep an eye on her until this investigation is over," Miller suggests. "You know, just in case."

"Please do," Octavia tells him before he walks away again.

Octavia walks back to her desk and pulls her cellphone from her jacket pocket and quickly unlocks it.

"And what are you doing?" Bellamy questions.

"Asking Monroe if she can asks the analysist to also see if they can find anything and everything they can on Cage as well as his father," Octavia answers, typing out the text and pressing send. "I feel like we're close to finding _something_ that's going to crack this case, Bell."

"Oh how I hope you're right."

* * *

She should sleep, she knows she should. It's not going to do anyone any good if she has to drag herself into the squad room tomorrow – half dead from lack of sleep. Her captain just might kill her after sending them home to get some much needed rest.

But she can't sleep. Her mind won't stop to let her relax and sleep.

She's rubbing her fingers over the ring that settles between her breasts from the chain she can't bring herself to take off and keeps running through the evidence in her mind, trying to force something to pop out at her.

 _Mr. Wallace has a son who used to work for Mount Weather._

 _It all comes back to Mount Weather._

 _Mount Weather._

Those words have been running through her mind ever since their visit to the security firm and Maia showed up at the precinct later that same day….So she was right in thinking that the man in the photograph was somehow related to Dante Wallace. It's his son in fact and she just can't seem to wrap her head around everything.

But she can't understand why the company keep popping up in their investigation….

"I can hear the gears working overtime in your head," Lincoln says, rolling over to face her.

"I'm sorry….it's just, this case is," Octavia sighs, trailing off mid-sentence and pushes herself up into a sitting position and leans back against the headboard.

Lincoln pushes himself up on his elbow. "It's taxing."

"That's the understatement of the year," she glances over at him. "Look, I know that's this case has taken up most of my time, but –"

"Hey, I understand," Lincoln says, setting into a sitting position next to her. He reaches over and grasps one of her hands in his own. "You're not going to stop until you find justice for the victims and their families and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't give up even when most people probably would."

Octavia smiles. "Even at times like these, where I don't know what to do?"

"I'm sure you'll come to a conclusion," Lincoln tells him. He's always so supportive of her and it makes her heart swell – she doesn't understand how she was lucky enough to find him. "Just look back over everything you've gathered and try looking outside the box if you get stumped again."

Octavia opens her mouth to respond but is interrupted by her cell phone ringing. "Shit," she mutters as she turns towards the nightstand and reaches out for the device. "Please don't be another body," she says as she answer the call and brings the phone to her ear.

"Blake," she answers. "What? Already…..alright, thanks….Just leave it on my desk and I'll get to it in the morning."

"What was that about?"

Octavia places the phone but on the nightstand before turning to face her boyfriend. "I had one of the technical analysist look into Dante Wallace's past, along with his son's," she explains. "I had no idea she'd actually work into the night but she did and it's done and there's going to be a file on my desk in the morning."

"See, everything always has this thing about working out in the end," Lincoln tells her.

"Sure," she says, playfully slapping his arm. "I just hope there's _something_ there and that this isn't all just a waste."

"Even if this Cage Wallace isn't your murderer, if the way you talked about how freaked Maia was is any consolation, he's definitely a shady person," Lincoln says.

"Yeah he's probably hiding something and I just need to figure out what that is," Octavia agrees, and maybe once and for all she can bring an end to the mountain man.

She can't just let this bastard get away, not this time.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Well I was trying to get this finished before season season aired but I guess that's not going to happen, oh well. Though I do have mostly all of the chapters written, I just have to proofread them and with school starting and me already drowning in work only after the first week - even with a snow day on Friday, it's gonna be a _long_ semester, so updated will probably not have a schedule, but we'll see.

* * *

"Please tell me it's something good?"

Miller looks up from the file he's holding in his hands to find Octavia strolling into the squad room with a to-go coffee cup in her hand and a determined expression on her face.

"Well this Cage Wallace has a rap sheet a mile long," Monroe says, reading from the file she's holding in her hand. "Multiple B&Es, aggravated assault, disorderly conduct…this guy is a mess," she adds, tossing the file folder back on her desk.

"Anything juicy on Dante?" Octavia asks Miller.

Miller shakes his head as he thumbs through the file. "For the most part he seems clean….I guess the only thing he was hiding was the fact that he has a pretty shitty son, but I can always have our analysts look deeper?"

"That's not necessary," Octavia informs him. "What I really want to do is find Cage."

"I already have units watching the address listed in the file," Miller responds. "Granted, it seems like it's been abandoned for years, it can't hurt to keep an eye on it."

"Well it's better than nothing," Octavia sighs, slipping into her desk chair and spinning to face her partner. "Where do we go from here? If we can't find this guy, what happens to this case? We can't just let the Mountain Man get away again."

"And he won't," Miller tries to assure her to no avail.

Octavia shakes her head. "You don't know that and you can't promise that….none of us can." She places her thumb and her forefinger against the bridges of her nose and gives it a squeeze as she closes her eyes.

"You're not getting another migraine are you?" Miller asks.

Octavia cracks an eye open and stares across their desks at him. "Maybe…"

Miller pushes himself back from his desk and quickly makes his way to the break room to grab a water from the mini fridge settled in the corner. Upon returning to the bullpen he reaches for the top drawer of his desk to pull out the bottle of migraine pills, quickly screws off the top and drops two tablets in his hand before handing them over to Octavia.

"Thanks," she says and gratefully accepts the medicine and the water bottle. "Do you just keep them on hand now?"

"I've noticed your headaches and figured that maybe it'd be for the best," Miller explains, settling back into his chair. "And it looks like I was right."

"You always take better care of me than I do myself sometimes."

Miller shrugs. "What are partners for?"

Octavia smiles, Miller and by extension his boyfriend, like Lincoln always seemed to make sure she took care of herself. She's seems to have become a part of this little extended family without even realizing it, with all these people who care about her and she's secretly okay with this, even if she'll never actually admit that.

Octavia turns towards the sound of footsteps coming to a halt next to her desk. She sees her brother next to her and a part of her wonders where exactly he disappears to whenever he's not standing around in the bullpen or the break room or on the phone with his superiors.

"Anything new?" Bellamy asks, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Just a rap sheet a mile long for one Cage Wallace and I have uni's on his house," Miller shoots out.

Octavia glances up at her brother. "Right now we're just going to have to sit on him….and see how this all plays out. And hope that the Mountain Man doesn't strike again," she mutters that last part to herself but of course Bellamy hears her.

"We're not going to stop until we catch him."

 _Unless he strikes again and goes into hiding like last time._

"Hiding, that's it," Octavia mutters.

"What was that?" Bellamy asks from his place just behind her chair.

She glances up at him. "The Mountain Man has to have a hiding place _somewhere_ right? Somewhere large enough for him to hold his victims and do whatever it is he does to them, but also not so large or obvious enough to draw a lot of attention."

Bellamy nods. "Yeah."

"Seems like there should be a warehouse or an abandoned building or _something_ either around his hunting ground or where he lives," Octavia states, turning to face Monroe and Miller. "Did you two get that?"

Both detectives send her a nod in return.

"See if you can get uni's to canvas the Georgetown area as well as the area surrounding Wallace's address," Octavia commands. "Maybe we can find something and go from there."

"On it."

It may end in another dead end or they may actually get somewhere. Although at this point, Octavia is willingly to try just about anything to find this sick son of a bitch.

* * *

"You wouldn't believe just how many abandoned buildings there are in this city," Monroe says, pulling out the papers she'd printed. "This is way too many to search randomly and hope we find something – besides, we'd never get a warrant to search all of them."

Octavia sighs. "Well now we have to find a way to narrow it down."

"Should we take another trip to Mount Weather Security?" Bellamy offers.

Octavia pushes back from her desk and stands up. "Miller, Monroe see if you can find an abandon building in Dante's or Cage's name or an anagram of one of their names, or something….Bellamy and I will see if we can get something more out of Dante."

"You got it," Miller responds as Octavia slips on her jacket and follows Bellamy towards the elevator.

* * *

Maia looks up upon hearing the two of the entering the building. "Oh detective, agent – what brings you back here?"

"We need to talk to Mr. Wallace again," Octavia tells her.

"I'm afraid he's in a meeting."

"Well get him out of the meeting," Bellamy says. "Or we'll bring him down to the station, we're done playing games.

"He's in his office," she replies just as Bellamy and Octavia head down the hallway.

"What the," Dante says as Bellamy shoves the door open and walks into his office.

"We're here to ask you a few more questions," Octavia says.

"I'm in the middle of an important meeting," he responds, gesturing to the two men sitting in front of his desk.

"And we're in the middle of a very important investigation where your son is the _prime_ suspect and we know he used to work for you so in the end it'll come back on your company," Octavia retorts, crossing her arms and sending him a glare. "Now are you going to tell us what we want to know or do we have to charge you with obstruction and drag your ass to the precinct?"

Dante sighs and quickly has the other two men leave through the doorway, closing the door behind him before turning around and facing the two siblings.

"You may have just ruined a much needed deal for this company," Dante says.

"Did we?" Octavia responds, faying innocence. "Oops. But we could have avoided that little scene if you had just told us what we wanted to know from the beginning…So now getting to the point, what can you tell us about your son?"

"And don't say you don't know," Bellamy adds.

Dante sighs and walks back towards his desk. "Cage had problems with most of my employees, not just Hank….and I'm sure you've seen his criminal record….I tried my best but I guess I failed and I don't think there's any hope for him anymore…I've gotten so many complaints; from employees and clients so I had to fire him."

"And I'm guessing he didn't take it well?" Bellamy questions.

"I'm afraid not, but I swear, I don't know where he is or what he's been up to," Dante says, holding up his hands. "I haven't spoken to him since I fired him. Do you really think he's the one who killed those girls? And Hank?"

"We think it's a good possibility," Octavia responds. "So you don't have any idea where he'd hide out at? Or any way to get in touch with him?"

"Like I said I haven't spoken to him since I fired him," Dante repeats.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Wallace," Octavia says. "We're sorry about everything."

He waves them off. "It's not your fault my son turned out the way he did…I just hope that you find him before another poor girl gets hurt."

"We'll do our best," Octavia assures, stepping back towards the door with Bellamy following her. "It wasn't your fault either, Mr. Wallace," she says before leaving.


	8. Chapter 8

A quick rasp against the door and the sound of retreating footsteps pulls her gaze from her laptop that's perched on the counter in front of the barstool she's sitting on. She's on autopilot as she slips from the stool, grabs her gun and edges towards the front door.

She quickly looks through her peephole and sees no one in the hallway. She braces herself, holding her gun out with the right hand and moving her left hand to open the door. She flings the door open and is met with nothing but an empty space.

She glances down the hallway and sees nothing either. Octavia switches the safety back on and lets her hand fall to her side, letting out a sigh.

 _There's no one there, Octavia._

 _You're letting this case get to you._

She's about to close the door again when something on the ground catches her eyes. She glances down and sees her name scrawled on a white envelope.

Her breath hitches in her throat when she sees the red writing, automatically knowing who it's from. She quickly retrieves the note and closes the door, locking it and sliding the chain in place before she lets out her breath.

 _Calm down O._

She backtracks from the door and places her gun on the counter. She carefully opens the envelope and pulls out the paper inside.

 _You're pretty smart, but not smart enough._

 _So you know who I am but not where I am._

 _Are you going to find me before there's a new body?_

 _C. Wallace_

She forces her eyes close and tries to steady herself, refusing to have a reaction to note – to him. She won't let him have the satisfaction. He's taunting her and she knows he's getting off on it.

* * *

She flings the door to the lab open causing Raven and Clarke to jump. Octavia doesn't apologize as she quickly walks up to them and gets straight to the point.

"Can you see if you can get something from this?" she asks, holding the envelope out to them.

"Sure, but what is it?" Clarke responds, taking it from her outstretched hand and walking over to her workspace.

"A note addressed to me from _him_ ," Octavia gets out between gritted teeth. "Someone dropped it off at my apartment, so the bastard knows where I live. We _have_ to find him."

"You know you have to tell Kane about this," Raven says, as if Octavia doesn't already knows. She knows she couldn't keep this from her captain even if she tried.

Octavia sighs. "Yeah I know, but I don't want to be taken off this case and I know that's the first thing he's going to try to do….hell, Bellamy is going to try to have me taken off the case when he finds out. And I can't have that."

"If he's targeting you now," Clarke says, glancing over at the other woman. "It's in your best interest to step down."

"I made a promise to Jenna's family and Hank's wife that I would find this bastard and I'm going to do just that," Octavia says, firmly, clenching her hands into fists. "And now because he came to me, it's personal and I'm not just going to step down."

"Just be careful," Clarke warns.

"I will," Octavia replies, turning away from her friends and heading back towards the elevators that will take her to the squad room and to her captain. She shouldn't promise them that she'll be safe, that nothing will happen to her because she doesn't know. She feels a little guilty for lying to them, but at the same time, it comes with the job and it's something she has to live with.

The elevator ride is painstakingly slow and she starts shuffling her feet, willing the elevator to move faster. The sooner she can have this conversation with her captain, the sooner it can be over with and she can fight for her place on this case.

After what feels like hours the doors slide open, of course it was only a few minutes at the most. She slowly steps onto the squad room floor and heads straight for her captain's door, not even stopping for Miller or Monroe who call her name.

She swiftly knocks on his door before edging it open. "Captain –"she starts but quickly stops when she sees that her captain isn't alone. "Oh Director Sinclair, I'm sorry," she says, starting to edge back into the squad room. "I can come back."

"It's quite alright Detective," Sinclair responds. "I was just getting an update on the case and I was just leaving."

Octavia moves out of the way as he walks past her and watches as he walks towards the elevator before shutting the door, leaving Miller and Monroe with confused looks on their face.

"Yes detective?" Kane says, moving out from behind his desk.

"There's something, I need to talk to you about," Octavia begins, taking a breath and preparing herself. "About the case – well more specifically the mountain man."

Kane raises an eyebrow. "Let's get on with it Octavia."

She sighs and takes a breath. "I got this note from him delivered to my apartment and I've already taken it to the lab for testing…..but what I'm saying sir please don't take me off this case. I _have_ to catch him."

"He knows where you live," Kane states, crossing his arms.

"Give me a protection detail then, limit my time in the field, I'll work on the case from the precinct," Octavia reasons. "Anything to stay on this case….I mean no disrespect sir, but I made a promise to two families and I intend to keep them. And I can't just let this note go."

Kane purses his lips. "Alright, I'll set up a protection detail on your building and if you do go out in the field, you are to stay with Miller or your brother, although you will be working mostly from your desk. And try not to be out on your own too much."

Octavia nods. "Yes sir, thank you."

"Don't make me regret this," he says, waving her off.

She turns and leaves his office, walking back to her desk to the curious stares of Miller and Monroe.

"What was all that about?" Miller asks.

"Don't freak out, okay," Octavia says. She takes off her jacket and sets it on the back of her chair before settling into it and telling her partners the story.

"What the hell?"

"You're seriously not going to take yourself off the case?" Monroe asks.

"It's Octavia we're talking about here," Miller replies, leaning back in his chair. "She's too damn stubborn for her own good."

"Hey in my defense, I promised Captain Kane that I wouldn't do anything to purposely put myself in harm's way," Octavia defends.

"Still I think it'll help me sleep better on time if we could hurry up and catch this guy."

"Same Miller."

* * *

Her phone chimes as she steps through her building doorway and waves to doorman. She fishes in her pocket and pulls out the device to see a text from her brother.

 _Just be careful okay, O._

 _I will, Bell,_ she quickly types in response before pressing the send button. She'd had a late lunch with her brother earlier where she broke the news to him. Of course he'd flipped out and turned into overprotected big brother mode, but Octavia was able to calm him down a little bit when she told him the conditions she'd set with her captain. He's still not okay with it, but she didn't really expect him to be.

She wasn't looking forward to telling him, just like she's not looking forward to telling Lincoln, but she knows she has to. It's his apartment too and he has a right to know.

She sighs as she steps into the elevator.

 _It's gonna be a long night._

She pulls out her keys while she's walking from the elevator and wonders how she's going to tell Lincoln, though a small part of her wonders if her captain or Miller has already called him. She's leaning on the latter.

"You're okay," she's greeted with Lincoln's concerned voice before she's even stepping through the threshold.

"Of course I am," Octavia responds, shutting the door with the heel of her boot and dropping her keys on the end table by the door. "I take it someone called you."

"Nathan did," he replies.

"I wasn't going to keep this from you," Octavia tells him, opening the small closet to stuff her jacket inside. She pulls her gun from her waist, upholsters it and stores it in her gun box after she pushes in the combination. "I just didn't want to tell you over the phone," she adds, closing it along with the door and turning to face him.

"As long as you're careful and know what you're getting into," Lincoln sighs and glances at his feet before looking up and meeting her gaze. "I guess I should be used to it by now, but I'm not….every time you walk out that door in the mornings, I think I'm never going to see you again."

"I know I can't promise that nothing is ever going to happen to me," Octavia tells him, bending over and pulling her boots off her feet and leaving them by the door. She steps further into the apartment until she's standing in front of Lincoln. "But I can promise to try not to do anything purposely to put myself in harm's way."

"That's all you can do," Lincoln agrees.

"Hey," Octavia says, leaning up and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm okay and whatever happens, just know that I'm going to always fight to come home to you."

* * *

"Let me guess, the search of his address turned up empty," Octavia says, walking into the squad room the next morning, slipping off her jacket and tossing it on her chair.

Miller nods. "Yep…the place was clean and there's no sign of where he could have went."

"Damn it," Octavia swears, running a head through her head.

"He has to trip up some time," Monroe tries to reason but Octavia shakes her head.

"He's too damn good," Octavia argues.

"If we know who he is," Monroe says. "Then why the hell is it so hard to find him?"

The sound of the elevator has the three detectives pulling their gazes over to the other side of the bullpen to see one of the officers walking towards them with a white envelope in his hands.

"Well this can't be good."

"You might want to see this," the officer says, holding the envelope in his outstretched hand.

Octavia takes the envelope from him and rips it open, the breathing hitching in her throat. She glances up at Miller and Monroe and takes a breath before breaking the news to them. "He's going to strike again."

She glances back down at the note in her hands, seeing the same red substance the other note was written in.

 _It's a shame that you can't stop me_

 _And that another girl has to die._


	9. Chapter 9

She grabs for the bedside table lamp sitting on the night stand, yanks it off the stand and smashes it against her attacker's head. His grip on her ankle loosens which allows her to jump out of his reach. She grabs her phone off the night stand and rolls across the bed. Stepping over Lincoln's unconscious body, she runs for the living room.

 _I'm so sorry Lincoln, but help will be on the way._

She'd told Lincoln to call 911 as soon as she heard noises coming from the living room but she knows the mountain man had knocked him unconscious almost as quickly as he'd dialed the number. But she can still see his phone in the middle of a call out of the corner of her eye and she runs from the room.

Just in case, she dials Miller's number on her phone and tosses it under the nearby chair.

She jumps over an overturned chair and slides over the couch, trying to get to the small closet near the front door. She's mentally kicking herself for locking her gun up, wishing she'd just put it in her bedside table, wishing she hadn't left her side arm at the precinct.

She just gets to the closet and flings the door open when she hears a thud coming from the bedroom and she thinks it may be Cage starting to stir, knocking something out of the way and making her way towards her. She's only just unlocked the gun box and grabbed her gun when she senses his presence in the room, the hair on the back of her neck standing up.

She spins around, putting the gun and click off the safety.

"You're a firecracker, I like a girl with a fight," Cage observes.

"Stay where you are," she threatens. "Or I swear I will shoot you where you stand."

She's surprised to find that her voice doesn't betray her, its steady and firm despite the fact that she's shaking and her breathing is shallow.

"You won't shoot me."

"Oh yeah? Then take another step," Octavia says, her eyes narrowing. "It's over Cage."

"I think it's going to be over when I say it's over," he tells her, stepping forward.

Octavia fires off a shot and curses herself when it barely cuts his upper arm. She's shaking too hard to get a clear shot.

"Looks like they don't teach accuracy at the academy anymore," he taunts before lunging forward.

Octavia quickly rolls out of the way and flips over the couch, landing near the coffee table. She spins around and sees Cage changing his direction, knowing she's just entered into a Cat and Mouse game with this sick bastard.

But she doesn't give up. She brings her hand holding the gun towards him and tries to pistol whip him while kicking her leg out to make contact with his stomach. But his hold on her ankle stays firm and soon her hand is pinned to the floor and she feels her gun fall from her grip.

Her head hits the floor and the last thing Octavia hears is sirens before the world goes black.

* * *

The air is cooler than an average DC September should be and she can tell there's a draft along with a faint sound of water in the distance. A soft _drip, drip_.

Octavia slowly blinks her eyes, trying to focus them in the dim lighting. She's groggy and her head feels heavy and cloudy, and she swears there's something; a bandage or a cloth wrapped around her head. When her eyes focus enough to where she can see her surroundings – not that there's much to see in the horrid lighting – she knows that she's in a basement somewhere. And she's in a chair. And her hands are bound to the arm rests and her legs to chair legs.

 _Damn it, I've got to get out of here_.

The sounds of footsteps on the top of the basement steps, growing louder and louder with each creaky step draw her attention. A light switch is flipped and she forces her eyes closed to the now too bright room, slowly easing them back open as her eyes try to adjust.

"You're awake."

The voice is sinister and sends a chill through her spine.

"That was quite the fight you gave by the way," the man says. "Everyone else wasn't as fun. Wasn't as much of a challenge – but you – well you've proven to be quiet interesting already."

When his words finally resisters in her mind – she realizes how screwed she is.

On one hand, she's found the mountain man hideout– or well, he's brought her here. On the other hand, unless her squad and her brother find him – they'll probably find her in an alleyway in two days.

If she's being honest with herself, she's scared, but there's no way in hell she's going to let him know that.

"They're going to find you and you're going to pay," she spits out.

"Such faith you have in your team, especially since you've never been able to find me," he taunts. "Not the DC police and definitely not the FBI."

"We found your dad, he told us everything, Cage," Octavia tosses his real name at him. "It's only a matter of time before my team tracks you down…Let's face it, you're not going to get away with everything this time."

"Your team isn't going to find you until it's too late….I still managed to get away from your team when they were so close to your apartment," Cage taunts. "Your precious team is going to be too busy with that body of that poor young girl when they find her – if they find her."

A light goes off in Octavia's head when she remembers everything from before…She remembers calling Miller, she remembers the struggle, the crash of her head against the coffee table and she remembers the sirens right before she passed out.

"Why?" she doesn't know why she's asking him, she's not even sure she'd get a real answer.

"Why what?"

"I was probably good for dead, why go through the trouble of bringing me to wherever the hell we are," Octavia questions.

"You want to know? You really want to know?"

Octavia shrugs. "Just pieces of the puzzle finally coming together."

"It's all part of the game."

 _Of course it is._

"So all this? Torturing, beating and killing young women? It's just a game to you?" Octavia states, titling her head as she sizes him up. "That's what you get off on, isn't it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"But a big man like you should be able to handle smaller women like me and Jenna and all of them. You shouldn't have to have us restrained but yet you always do," Octavia says. "Seems like you're not really as big and scary as you try to make yourself seem."

She's testing him and she's walking on a thin line – she know she is.

His hand makes contact with her face before she realizes and once she feels her mouth filling with a wet hot, metallic taste, she knows it's probably bad.

"You should do well to watch your smart mouth, detective," Cage grits. "It'll only get you into trouble."

"Well if I'm going to die, I'm not about to go without a fight," she spit out. Whatever he's going to do to her, she's not going to allow herself to think about, she's not going to allow herself to look weak, she's not going to give him that satisfaction.

He leans in, until they're at eye level. "Oh I'm going to have fun with you."

She narrows her eyes and spits the blood out of her mouth into his face.

He only smirks as he takes her in. "You really are a little spit fire."

"My team _is_ going to find you and you're going down."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, _Detective."_

She closes her eyes and braces herself for another slap but nothing comes. Instead all she hears is the sound of retreating footsteps and she forces her eyes open just in time to see the lights turn off. The darkness is followed by the door slamming and footsteps overheard thundering away.

She's pretty sure she just signed her death certificate.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: So real life has basically kicked me in the ass for the past few weeks and it's felt like I've barely had time to even breathe, but I finally found time for this story again so I'm taking advantage of it to give you another chapter :)

* * *

The days start rolling into one until she's not sure what day it is or how long she's been in this place. And all the drugs he's forced in her system don't help her hazy memory. She's fought to stay coherent but with her head feeling heavy and fuzzy and the pain in her body, she loses the fight.

After all the screaming until her throat was raw – part from pain, part hoping that someone would hear her; after all everything she's been through since she's been strapped to this chair, she's tired of fighting. She's tired of not knowing if now is going to be the time when he kills her.

She just _tired._

She hears a faint pitter patter of what she assumes could be dripping water or maybe it's a bunch of tiny feet. But neither of those things make any sense. She can't be sure if this is actually happening or if she's imaging it all.

There's a voice calling her, telling her to hold on and there's something on her neck. She pulls her head away or so she tries. Even through the haze, she's afraid that it's _him_ coming back to finally finish the job. But she hears her name from a soft, comforting voice and she knows that it can't be _him._

Although there's a nagging voice in the back of her mind that's telling her this is all a trick but she's too exhausted to care.

If it is him, she can't bring herself to care. If it is him then she won't have to feel this way anymore – it'll finally be over.

She feels herself being lifted and she wonders if she is passing on. If she can finally be free from the torture, the haze and the pain. She just wants it to be over – to not feel anything anymore. But then her back makes contact with something firm and flat. And then she's moving.

She starts hearing a buzz and she thinks it could be voices overlapping but she can't focus on them. They don't mean anything to her. Although, there is this one that sticks out, one that breaks through the haze. One that is familiar to her.

"Please hang on," the voice calls, pleading with her. "Keep fighting for me, O."

And she tries. She doesn't know why but something clicks with the familiarity of the voice and the comfort of it. This voice that for some reason feels like coming _home_ gives her the motivation to fight.

 _I will. I promise._

And she hopes that she can keep that promise.

* * *

A moan escapes her lips and she slowly blinks her eyes, trying to bring clarity to her blurry vision. The blob sitting on the chair next to the bed she's in slowly forms into her brother and she can feel a small smile blooming on her lips.

"Hey there."

She stifles a groan and rubs a hand across her face. "How long how I been out?"

"A few hours," Bellamy tells her.

"Where am I?"

Bellamy sighs. "You're in the hospital….do you remember anything?"

"I was in a basement, I think and Cage was there," she rattles off, she shakes her head. It's all a little foggy and she can't remember much but she remembers pain and blood and she forces the thoughts away, not wanting to dwell on them for much longer. "I don't remember much," she lies, wanting to try and keep the more horrific details to herself – no need to worry her brother when she can't even be for sure what happened yet.

After a moment she asks the only question that really matters to her. "Please tell me you all finally caught this bastard."

"He's in custody – don't worry," Bellamy easily responds, reaching over and grasping her hand. "He's done for. There's no way he's going to get out of this."

Octavia lets out a sigh of relief before glancing back over at him. "Are you going to tell me what happened on your end?"

"When we finally found you, you were unconscious and the bastard was standing over you with a knife – some of the SWAT officers took him down," Bellamy tells her. "I checked your pulse and untied you and Miller shouted for an ambulance."

Octavia nods and glances down at her wrists and saw the rope burns. She runs her fingers over one of her red wrists and turns her gaze back to her brother.

"You know through it all…I thought –"he stops, swallowing hard. "I thought I was going to lose you."

Octavia gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere, Bell. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

After a few minutes, the sibling's lapse into a comforting silence, just enjoying each other's company, soaking in the relief that she's _okay_ , that she's _alive._ Relived that this ordeal is finally over and they can breathe.

A knock at the door has both of them turning their heads and Octavia feels a smile forming when her gaze lands on her partner.

"I'll give you two a minute and let Lincoln know you're awake," Bellamy tells Octavia before placing a kiss on her forehead and shuffling out of the hospital room.

"Hey," Octavia says. "What you got there?"

"I heard you might be opening a flower shop," Miller responds, holding up a bouquet. "Monty and I thought we'd add to it."

Octavia takes the moment to take in her hospital room and finally notices all the flowers and other trinkets surrounding her. "Wow," she breathes realizing just how extensive it really is. "I guess they're all mostly from the precinct."

"Probably," Miller tells her, sitting the bouquet down and settling in the chair Bellamy vacated. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I was, but I can guess that I have a long road ahead," Octavia responds. She gives her partner a look and raises an eyebrow. "What aren't you telling me?"

Miller sighs. "It's the other girl."

"There was another body wasn't there?"

"Not exactly…well she wasn't dead, but she was barely alive," Miller explains, clasping his hands together. "She's in a room down the hall and the doctors say she should be fine but it's who it was."

"Get it out Miller," Octavia says, tired of her partner trying to beat around the bush instead of just biting the bullet and getting to the point.

"It was Harper."

Octavia gasps. "No…how's Monroe taking it?"

"Monroe hasn't left Harper's bedside since they brought her in which was a few days before we finally found you," Miller states.

"So she's okay?"

Miller nods. "She has a long healing process ahead of her, but she's going to be just fine."

Octavia breaths out a sigh of relief. She cares just as much about Monty and Harper as she does about Miller and Monroe. Their little dysfunctional squad is a family and that family extends into her coworkers significant others.

"How long as it been?" Octavia asks, wanting the answer to the question but also not wanting it.

"A week," Miller answers truthfully. "There were some clues where we found Harper that lead us in your direction….and know you're curious and you want to know all the details, but maybe there are some things better left unknown."

"Yeah I know, but I think you and I both know it's probably not going to stop me," Octavia says, shooting a look at Miller who quickly agrees with her.

She runs a hand over her face. "How could I have let myself get captured?"

"It's not your fault," Miller says immediately.

"It feels like it is, he was in my apartment," Octavia tells him. "He'd already attacked Lincoln and…I'm a cop, I should have done more."

"You managed to call me, you did all that you could," he tells her, reaching for her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"How is he by the way?" she asks.

"I'm fine."

Octavia gaze quickly goes towards the door where Lincoln is walking in. _He's okay._

"Just a minor concussion," Lincoln tells her. "Which is kind of surprising."

"I'm going to go check in on Monroe," Miller explains before taking his leave.

"Please don't ask me how I'm doing," Octavia says once Lincoln settles on the bed next to her hip. "I don't think I could take another person asking me the same question after just waking up."

"You're alive and that's all I could ask for," Lincoln says with a smile, cupping her cheek with his hand. "Given the fact that I thought I'd lost you."

"I'm right here," Octavia breathes out, placing a kiss on the inside of his wrist. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know."


	11. Chapter 11

She stills herself as she pushes open their front door, trying to calm her rapid breathing, knowing that in just a few seconds she'll be back in the place where all this started.

"Are you okay?"

She glance over her shoulder at Lincoln. "Yeah…" she says with a shaky voice and she knows he doesn't believe her, but he also won't push. At least not yet.

 _I think so._

Honestly? She doesn't know how she feels, doesn't know how long it's going to take her to get through all the shit she went through, but she does know that it's not going to be easy.

She takes a deep breath as she walks through the threshold, looking over the living room and remembering the night a week and a half ago when her life changed. She tries closing her eyes to push the memories away but it only makes them more prominent.

She remembers smashing his head with the lamp, running towards the living room, the struggle, everything…

 _It's going to be a long, hard road._

She's on auto pilot as she slips out of her jacket and hangs it in the closet before removing her boots and making her way towards the couch. She sinks down in the cushions and pulls her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head on her knees.

"I can't say that it's going to be easy, Octavia," Lincoln says, making his way towards her. "But you're not going to be alone…If you want to talk, you know I'm here."

Octavia pulls her head off her knees and gives him a small smile. "Yeah, I know….How's your head?"

"Better than it was," Lincoln responds, taking a seat next to her. "And I could ask you the same question."

Octavia lifts a hand and brings it to the back of her head, where stitches start from behind her right ear to the middle of her head. "It still hurts…but I guess it could be worse. I could be like Jenna and the rest of those poor girls."

Lincoln places a comforting hand on her knee. "Hey, you're alive – you fought and you survived. You managed to get through that, you can get through the aftermath."

"You always have so much faith in me," Octavia says, resituating herself on the couch and laying her head on her shoulder. He wraps an arm around her and gives her a reassuring squeeze.

They sit in a comfortable silence. Despite her uneasiness, her discomfort of being back in the place where it all started, she's glad she has Lincoln with her. He's always been her rock, the person she can lean on and the person she goes to when things go wrong. He's the person she tells everything to.

"Well Kane suggested I see someone," Octavia says, breaking the silence and glancing over at him.

"Like a therapist?" Lincoln asks and Octavia nods. "And are you?"

Octavia runs a hand through her hair. "I'm not sure….I don't know – Should I?"

"That is your decision," Lincoln replies, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "If you feel like it will help, I'll respect that."

"Maybe I'll look into it," Octavia tells him. "Looks like I'll have to do something to make Kane believe that I can go back to work."

"Taking a few days off isn't a bad thing, Octavia," Lincoln says. "Especially after everything."

"Yeah maybe," Octavia replies, letting out a sigh and pulling herself up into a sitting position before pushing off the couch. "Maybe I'll go relax in a hot bubble bath – may reveal some of the tension."

"Do you want something to eat?" Lincoln calls after her retreating figure pushing off the couch and walking towards the kitchen.

"Maybe only something light?" Octavia suggests, before making her way towards their bathroom.

She closes the door behind her and stills herself against the wood, closing her eyes and letting her head fall backwards. She doesn't know if she can do this, if she can be in this apartment and act like nothing's wrong. She doesn't know that she can pretend to be fine when she knows that she's not, when everywhere she looks she's reminded of that night.

When there are demons creeping in the shadows of a place that was once home to here, threatening to leap out at her and drag her down with them.

 _You just got to preserver, Octavia._

 _One step at a time._

She pushes herself away from the door, walking the short distance from the door to the tub and turns the faucets, adjusting the water to the perfect temperature. She reaches for the bubble bath she keeps near the tub for her rougher days at work, unscrews the cap and pours it under the steady stream of water until the bath starts foaming up. She recaps and sits it down.

She reaches over and turns the water off before it can overflow before stripping down and sinking into the hot water until her head can rest against the back of the porcelain tub. She lets out a content sigh as the water softly laps at her skin, slowly easing away some of the tension.

The at peace feeling isn't going to last forever, that much she knows. Once she walks back into that living room, all the emotions and memories from that night will come back, hitting her like a tidal wave. She doesn't want to face it even if she knows she has to – she can't just hide away and act like nothing's wrong even if it seems like the easy route. To just push everyone away and do this on her own.

But she knows she can't. Lincoln, Nathan, Bellamy, Clarke, and Raven – none of them will let that.

She could stay in the water forever, hiding away from her issues, from everything but the great aroma that feels the air, lapping at her nostrils have her pulling the drain and pushing herself out of the tub.

She can do this, she can face this thing head on.

* * *

She walks out from her bath to the smell of pasta drifting in from the kitchen and it brings a smile to her face, _her favorite._

"Do you think you went a little overboard?" Octavia asks with a raised eyebrow as she steps into the kitchen and sees the giant skillet of pasta Lincoln is pulling out of the oven.

"No," Lincoln says with a shrug before glancing at the pasta, the salad and the garlic bread he'd fixed. "Okay maybe I did….but there's always room for leftovers for tomorrow."

"You spoil me, you know that?" Octavia tells him as she slips into the barstool and leans forward on the counter to watch him work.

Lincoln continues to stir the pasta. "So your boss called while you were in the bathroom," he says, getting their drinks ready.

"He probably gave the whole _take a few days_ speech," Octavia responds, as Lincoln pulls the now finished pasta from the hot burner and sets to making them plates. "Probably doesn't think I should be working after everything that's happened and even though I don't blame him, I can't just do _nothing._ "

"Didn't he agree to let you keep working this case even after you got that threatening note?" Lincoln asks, settling a plate in front of her. "Do you really think he'd let another thing slide?"

"Yeah you're probably right," Octavia says between bites of pasta. "Maybe I will take a _few_ days and then beg Kane to let me just do paperwork or something."

There's a moment of silence before Octavia decides to speak again. "Do you think that's a bad idea?"

"I think that the only person who will know and who can know if and when you're ready to go back to work is yourself," Lincoln admits, taking a sip from his water. "Although I do agree that you should take a day or two – or at least until your stitches are out."

Octavia ponders his words for a moment. "Yeah, you're right…..I guess I should pick my battles with Kane."

* * *

"Octavia."

His voice may be soft and cautious but she still jumps. The glass of water she holds slips from her fingers and crashes to the flood, sending glass shards and water across the kitchen floor. Octavia spins around to face Lincoln, an apology already forming.

"I'm sorry, I'll –"

"Sorry –"

Lincoln lets out a chuckle and Octavia can't help but join him. Despite the tense of the past few weeks, she can still find humor in the little things.

"I'm sorry…I'm a little jumpy," Octavia admits, she waves her hand over the mess surrounding her. "I'll clean it up."

But Lincoln shakes his head, already moving towards the corner where they keep the brooms and dust pan. "I've got is."

"I can do it," Octavia argues.

"I know you can, but I wouldn't want you getting glass stuck in your foot trying to maneuver around the mess," Lincoln explains, sitting down the dustpan and beginning to sweep up the glass.

Octavia silently agrees, leaning back against the counter. She places her palms on the granite countertop and pushes against the floor with her feet until she's sitting on top of the counter.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Octavia apologizes once she's settled into a spot.

"I rolled over and was met with a cold side of the bed," Lincoln says simply, sweeping the pile of glass into the dustpan. "I got worried and came in here."

"I'm sorry," Octavia says again, feeling guilty for waking him up. It's bad enough she's barely been getting enough sleep, he shouldn't have to suffer too.

"It's okay Octavia," Lincoln tells her, dropping the glass shards into the trashcan. "Actually I do wish you had woke me up when you got up."

"You deserve your sleep," she tries to argue but knows she's not going to get anywhere.

"So do you," Lincoln immediately responds. He makes another check around the floor, making sure he's gotten all the glass cleaned up before returning the broom and dustpan to their places in the corner.

"Easier said than done," Octavia mumbles as Lincoln crosses the short distance to stand in front of the counter Octavia is perched on.

"Hey," he says, cupping one of her cheeks with his hand. "I would do anything for you. And that means waking up in the middle of the night just to sit with you until you fall back asleep."

Octavia smiles and leans into the palm of his hand. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"I ask myself that question all the time," Lincoln responds with a grin.

Octavia reaches up and grasps Lincoln's hand in her own and he responds by giving her a tight, comforting squeeze.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lincoln asks, after a moment of silence.

Octavia takes a moment before shrugging. She honestly doesn't know if she really wants to talk about it, but she knows she needs to let _someone_ in. She feels herself being lifted off the counter and into Lincoln's open arms and she lets herself relax into him, her head resting on his clavicle.

Lincoln walks the short distance from the kitchen to the adjourning living room before settling into the couch. Octavia lets her head snuggle in the space between his shoulder and his neck and settles in his lap while he begins rubbing soothing circles along her spin.

"I feel like I can't breathe," she speaks into his neck. "Like I'm constantly being watched which seems ridiculous because Cage is sitting in jail and there's no way he'll get off at trial but I just can't shake the feeling."

"It's alright to be scared," Lincoln assures her.

She pulls back and glances up at him. "What if it never goes away?"

"I don't know," he admits. "But I do know that you never have to go through any of this alone."

"I know," she mumbles against him.

They lapse into a comfortable silence with Lincoln continuing to rub soothing circles along Octavia's spin and she tries to settle her breathing.

"You know if you want to, we can always get a new place," Lincoln says after a while.

Octavia meets his gaze. "We shouldn't have to move."

"I want you to be comfortable in our home," Lincoln states, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. "And if being here after what happened makes you this uneasy, then I don't mind looking for another apartment….I just want you to be happy, content and safe, Octavia. That's all I've ever wanted."

For the first time in weeks, Octavia feels a genuine smile appear on her lips.

* * *

AN: Well I hope you enjoyed the chapter :) And we're also coming up on the last few chapters, there's only three left and I just wanted to take this moment and thank anyone who's read, reviewed, favorited it or followed this story so far and have put up with the craziness that has been my life over the last few weeks because of school. Y'all are awesome :)


	12. Chapter 12

"How are you feeling?"

Octavia sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "Uneasy – like I constantly have to look over my shoulder….I sometimes feel like I'm being watched."

"It's going to take some time," Dr. Cartwig responds.

"It's already been almost a month," Octavia snaps and immediately regrets it. It's not her therapist's fault and she shouldn't take it out on her. "I'm sorry – that wasn't necessary."

"You're frustrated," she says, simply, as if she always has patients who snap, completely unfazed with it. "And knowing your personality and your ordeal, it's completely understandable…and everyone recovers at different rates."

Octavia nods. She knows that, it's come up at least once every session for the past few weeks. But she can't stop blaming shelf – believing that she could have kept all of this from happening.

"It's not your fault," Callie assures her as if she can read her mind and for a split second she wonders if she actually can before she pushes the thought away.

"Not but I could have stopped it," Octavia says, firmly. "If I had tried harder when the mountain man took his first victim back when I was a rookie….I could have worked harder to bring the bastard down and could have saved Jenna and myself."

"The turn of events was out of your hands, Octavia," Callie tells her. "And if the trail went cold and you didn't have the evidence, there was nothing you could have done."

Octavia pulls her legs under her and leans back on the couch. Sometimes she wishes the plush fabric could just swallow her whole and let her escape this nightmare she's living. She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a breath. "And I know that, logically, but I just can't bring myself to actually _believe_ it."

She purses her lips as she starts picking at her nails. It's a bad habit from when she was nervous as a child that she broke but has flared back up since her kidnapping and torture ordeal. And she can't bring herself to stop, even if she hates it.

"Is there something else on your mind?" Callie asks, slowly easing Octavia into admitting what's on her mind.

It's one of the things Octavia likes about this therapist her captain recommended. Callie doesn't push Octavia to open up, she lets Octavia go at her own pace and only steers the conversation back when Octavia falls silent. And has repeatedly asked Octavia to call her by her first name, and Octavia's okay with that, it doesn't make her feel like she's talking to a shrink and she feels a little more comfortable.

"Is all this self-doubt and blaming myself ever going to go away?" Octavia asks. She's tired of doubting her abilities when it comes to her job and she wishes nothing more than to have things go back to the way they were before.

"Only time will tell," Callie says. "And I know that's not what you want to hear right now but –"

"It's the only answer," Octavia finishes her sentence for her. "Yeah I got that…"

"Healing isn't something you can rush, Octavia."

"It's over...I survived it, but the damn thing is still effecting me," Octavia grumbles, clenching her hands into fists.

"It all comes down to one question," Callie tells her.

"Which is?" Octavia ponders, releasing her hands and flexing her fingers.

"Can you get to a place where you can live with the things that have happened to you?"

Octavia takes a moment to ponder the question, letting it roll around in her head. "So basically I just have to come to terms with everything and accept that I can't change it."

Callie nods.

"And you can't tell me how to do that," Octavia says simply.

"I can't tell you how to heal or how to move forward," Callie says, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "Only you can do that, you're the only one who knows what's best for you."

Octavia sighs and stares down at her lap. Her fingers moving of her only accord to play with the sliver band wrapped around her right ring finger. She's worn it every day for the last decade; the ring is safety for her, it's comforting, its _home._

"You do that a lot," Callie observes

Octavia's head shoots up and her gaze catches with that of her therapist. "Excuse me?"

Callie gestures towards her hands. "That ring you wear, you toy with it a lot…I assume it has some significance to you."

A small smile appears on Octavia's lips when she nods. "It was my mother's…I've worn it since she was killed…Wearing it makes me feel closer to her," she glances down at her lap. "It reminds me that I'm never alone, that she's always there."

"It's comforting?"

"Yeah," Octavia says with a nod. She runs a hand through her hair and lets out a sigh. "We've started to look for a new place – Lincoln and I."

"Is this something you want?"

"He's the one who brought it up after he found me in the kitchen," Octavia explains, closing her fist around her mother's ring. "I guess he's picked up on my uneasiness in my own home and doesn't want me to have to deal with that….sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky to have someone who cares so much about me."

"That's good you know," Callie assures her. "That you have such a good support system at home and that you seem to be repairing your relationship with your brother."

Octavia nods again. "Yeah."

"You don't have to be okay right now, Octavia," Callie reassures.

Octavia gives her a small smile. Deep down perhaps she knows that but she doesn't want to. She just wants to be okay, to move past this and never have to think or talk about those days again.

"Thank you," Octavia says instead of voicing her true feelings because while she wishes her progress was coming faster, it's still a start and her therapist has had a huge part in that.


	13. Chapter 13

It's another few weeks until they finally come to an agreement on a new place and she breathes out a sigh of relief that they'll have a home that doesn't have ghosts lingering to it. It's a clean slate and Octavia is greatly looking forward to it.

To being able to start fresh from her ordeal, to move on and fully heal without all her demons threatening to spill from the shadows.

The new apartment is perfect, actually; there's more room than their old place – room to grow and it's closer to the precinct so she really can't complain about that.

Of course there's still that small part of her that feels guilty that the only reason they had to move in the first place is because she couldn't feel safe at their apartment anymore. Because she let herself get kidnapped by –

 _No, stop it._

Octavia forces her eyes close, clutches her mother's ring and works to push the thoughts away. She refuses to let _him_ own her life anymore, she's made peace with what happened, she's worked through it – hours and hours in therapy later and she's finally found her solid ground.

"I'm not going to help anymore if you're just going to day dream," her brother voice teases, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She shakes her head and blinks her eyes before glancing over at Bellamy walking through the open door, talking to her over the top of a cardboard box.

"Sorry," she offers a meager smile.

"Just don't tell me you're still thinking about the case," he says, sitting the box down and straightening up to stare at his sister.

Octavia shakes her head. "I swear, I'm not….I mean some of the thoughts did try to sneak their way into my mind but I've realize that there's nothing I can do to change the past so I might as well make peace with that."

"It's good to know you're moving on," Bellamy says, reaching forward and giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh sure just stand there and talk and let us do all the work," Miller complains, dropping the box he was carrying on top of the one Bellamy just brought in. "Let your boyfriend and me slave away for you."

Octavia playfully rolls her eyes, before reaching over and slapping her partner's arm. "Oh shut up….and in case you're forgetting, you're the one who offered."

Miller turns back towards the door, mumbling something about thinking twice about it next time and all Octavia can do is laugh. "I guess we should go back and help before he decides to protest or something."

"Or let him sweat," Bellamy suggests with a shrug.

"Lincoln and I still have so many boxes and crap to unload," Octavia reminds him, sending a glare his way. "I don't need to annoy my helpful coworkers and friends who agreed to help."

"True," Bellamy agrees starting towards the door.

"Although it's not like I forced any of them to help except for you," Octavia comments as they're walking back towards the elevator.

Because really she didn't. She just mentioned that she and Lincoln had finally put a down payment on a new apartment and Miller asked if they needed any help moving. Which lead to Monty and Monroe joining in along with Raven and Clarke once they heard. And Clarke had even somehow convinced Wells – one of her oldest friends to join.

And Octavia couldn't help but notice how Wells and Raven were looking at each other, but that was a task for a different day. Something she would have to remember to ask Clarke about.

"I think you really have too much stuff," Monty complains when Octavia and Bellamy finally return to the moving van outside.

"I didn't force you to help, Monty," Octavia says again, reaching for the box he's handing her. "It's not my fault you decided to join your boyfriend today….you gotta learn how to say no."

"Like it's that easy," Monty mumbles.

"I work with him, I've worked with him for seven years," Octavia responds, situating the box to make sure she has a good grip. "And you've lived with him for about that same time, if not more – I think you should know how to tell him no by now."

"Lady's got a point, you know," Wells agrees.

"See," Octavia says, turning on her heel. "I like your friend, Clarke," she adds when she passes her on her back inside the apartment building.

"Probably only because he agreed with you," Clarke calls after her.

"Maybe."

* * *

Octavia sets the final box down and claps her hands together and she straightens up. "Okay, that's all of it," she announces.

"Finally," Monty says, from his place on the arm of the chair Nathan was sitting in. "Now where's the food…I'm starving."

"This man of yours, Nate," Octavia says with a laugh, dropping down onto the cardboard box and trying to cool off. "I ordered pizza, it should be here any moment."

She glances around the living room of hers and Lincoln's new apartment, seeing her friends and coworkers all perched on random pieces of furniture and boxes and can't help but smile. After everything she's been through, she's glad to finally have some feeling of normalcy.

When her gaze lands on Monroe and Harper she finds herself walking over to the couple.

"It's good to actually see you up and about," Harper comments when she sees Octavia.

"You too," Octavia responds with a small smile.

"See we're both fine," Harper says, firmly, placing a comforting hand on Monroe's shoulder and giving the muscle a squeeze.

"It's always the hardest when it's someone you know," Monroe states. "But it's great that you're both out of the hospital."

"Enough with the negativity," Harper replies, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "We survived, he was caught and there's no way he can get out of this."

"Harper's right you know!" Monty calls from the arm chair.

Octavia chuckles, it never feels with them to always find a way to make her laugh and smile, despite the cases she faces. What would she do without this dysfunctional, yet strangely functional group of people in her life? This group of people she probably never would have met had she never joined the academy – it's strange how much a little decision can have such a huge impact on your life.

A knock on the door pulls her out of her thoughts and she finds herself walking towards the front door, laughing when Monty cheers about the Pizza finally being here.

Yeah she wouldn't trade these people for anything.

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?" Clarke asks, pulling Octavia aside.

Octavia sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "I'm taking it one day at a time, Clarke…I haven't had any nightmares lately or any PTSD scenes so I guess I'm as good as I can be – given the circumstances."

Clarke gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "As long as you know you're –"

"Not alone," Octavia says, cutting her off. "Trust me you're not the one only who's told me that and it's kind of getting a bit annoying."

"I'm not going to apologize for caring," Clarke tells her, crossing her arms.

"And I wouldn't ask you to," Octavia responds with ease, knowing that she's glad to have such great friends – who would do anything for her and are always going to be there for her. Friends she would never trade for anything. "Are you still listening to me?"

"What? Of course I am."

"Yeah, you're totally not, Clarke," Octavia says before trying to follow Clarke's gaze and finds her eyes landing on her brother who's standing by the window talking to Lincoln. Octavia scoffs and turns back to her friend. "You are totally checking out my brother."

"I am definitely _not_ ," Clarke responds, leveling Octavia with a glare. "I was simply observing him."

"Sure you were," Octavia tells her with a raised eyebrow.

Clarke lets out a huff. "You didn't see how he was when you were missing, how it was _killing_ him, how much pain was laced in his eyes….none of that is there anymore – it's not seeing him happy again."

"You looked out from my brother?"

"I wasn't about to just let one of my best friend's brother let himself go," Clarke explains. "I just made sure that he took care of himself – well Lincoln, Nathan and I did."

"I guess I owe you one then."

Clarke shakes her head. "No, you don't….It's what friends are for."

Octavia smiled and steals another glance over at her brother and her boyfriend before turning back to her friend. "So I take it the two of you grow close?"

Clarke shrugs. "I guess we could be considered friends now….Octavia don't get any ideas," she adds, realization donning on her.

"I don't think I know what you're talking about, Clarke."

"I'm pretty sure you do," Clarke says, sending her a glare and a raised eyebrow.

"You don't want to talk about Finn, you don't want to talk about Lexa and you don't want to talk about Bellamy – okay got it," Octavia says with a sigh. "But after everything, you deserve to be happy."

Clarke runs a hand through her hair. "Relationships don't seem to be my strong suit…I mean Finn cheated on Raven and Me, Lexa…."

The two lapse into a brief moment of silence when Clarke trails off.

Octavia rolls the idea around in her head for a few moments, pondering over if she should or not but then lets her curiosity get the better of her and breaks the silence. "You still haven't told me what Lexa did."

"Was this all a ploy just to get me to tell you what happened between me and her?" Clarke questions quirking an eyebrow.

"You can't blame me for being curious," Octavia responds. "Especially with how you were after the two of you ended."

Clarke purses her lips, thinking back to the two of her past relationships that Octavia had brought up. "I'm honestly not sure if I ever know what happened or why it happened…I'm not even sure I could bring myself to trust her or anyone after what happened with Finn."

Octavia purses her lips. "Did you love her?"

"I don't know," Clarke admits, glancing down at her feet. "Maybe?"

Octavia reaches across the short places and gives Clarke's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Sometimes you just have to follow your heart."

"Maybe you have a point," Clarke responds with a shrug.

"Oh I know I have a point and if one of us is happy, then _we're both_ going to be happy," Octavia says, throwing an arm across Clarke's shoulder. "And once that happens, we're going to make Raven happy too."

There's been too much pain in her life over the past month and she's tired of it, tired of hurting. For as long as she can, she's going to make sure that she's surrounded by as much happiness and peacefulness as she can manage.


	14. Chapter 14

Weeks pass by and Octavia felt herself slowly easing back into how her life was before Cage broke into her home and kidnapped her. She's finally at a point where she can sleep through the night and she doesn't feel like she's being watched – doesn't have that feeling nipping at the back at her neck, sending chills down her spine.

Maybe it's the new place, maybe her therapy sessions are actually working, maybe it's her support system of friends and co-workers or maybe it's a combination of the three, but whatever it is, she's glad for it.

"Have I mentioned that I'm glad you're back," Miller says to her, over a boring morning of doing paperwork and waiting for a body to drop.

Octavia playfully rolls her eyes. "Only about five times a day since I've been back." She glances over at her partner and raises an eyebrow, twirling her pen in her hand.

She's only been back at work for a week and a half, going on two weeks now and it feels like no time has passed. The precinct quickly went back to feeling like a home away from home, the little family she's gained since joining as tight knit as ever and she's pleased with that.

Miller just shrugs. "Just wanting to make it known."

"I think the fact that whole squad floor starting clapping when I walked off the elevator two weeks ago made it well known," Octavia explains, quirking her eyebrow.

In fact, the second she stepped off the elevator upon returning to the precinct for the first time in almost a month, all of her fellow officers had started clapping. She's still sure it was Miller who started it – even if he denies it every time she brings it up.

"It's your fault we love you so much," Monroe tosses out from her desk with a playfully smirk on her face.

Octavia smiles, feeling content with the fact that the three of them have so easily returned to their sibling banter that's come to be the norm for them, the normalcy that is her life at the third district precinct.

Of course she can see the extra bit of concern laced in Miller's eyes when they leave to venture on a new case or suspect, and the look of relief when she comes back at the end of the day. She may find it a little bit annoying before all this mess with Cage happened but now, she's alright with having a partner who cares so much about her wellbeing. Even when it get to the point of being unbearable.

"Thanks for never giving up on me," Octavia tells the two of them, moving her gaze away from the paperwork she's only skimming over. "For coming to get me."

"I would never dream of giving up on you," Miller quickly responds. "That's what partners are for."

* * *

It's a few weeks later when the verdict comes out for Cage Wallace's trial, a trial that the precinct has kept close tabs on. Maybe the only trial that they've looked so closely too – usually they just let the DA do her job and let it go, but this one, this one was different. And there was a part of Octavia that needed to know what was going on every step of the trial, from the preliminary hearing to the verdict.

Of course Octavia didn't want to go to the courtroom, wanting to save herself from any possible flare ups that might happen if she saw _him._ She knew she was getting better with every step but at the same time she thought it best not to chance it and so Miller and Bellamy went for her, keeping her up to date on every detail.

"He's going away for life, O," Bellamy says, sitting down the lunch he'd pick up on his way from the courthouse to the precinct. "He's done."

Octavia breathes a sigh of relief and smiles, probably the biggest smile she's had in months. "It's over."

Technically it's been over ever since Cage Wallace was taken into custody and put into jail to await his trial, but now that he's been sentenced, it's _officially_ over. It's over, she's safe and he's never going to hurt another innocent girl again.

"It's over and you're safe," Bellamy repeats and Octavia doesn't know if he's saying it for her or more to convince himself that it's really true.

"We can go back to normal, Bell," Octavia tells him, letting him pull her into a crushing hug. She breathes in the smell of his cologne, the smell of _home_ and she's so fortune that her brother came back into her life and they were able to repair their relationship, despite the circumstances of how.

"Well as normal as we can be," Bellamy says, pulling back to look at her. "Being a homicide detective and an FBI agent and all."

"True," Octavia admits, glancing around the squad room. This is her _home_ , her _haven_ and she knows that she wouldn't trade it for anything else. This is the life she's chosen for herself, to fight for victims who couldn't fight for themselves, to get peace for their families.

It's who she is, she's a fighter, she fights for justice and doesn't take no for an answer.

* * *

AN: Well this is the final chapter for this story and I just wanted to take a point and thank everyone who's read, reviewed, favorited or followed this story. Y'all are awesome.


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